As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.

Dear women of the Bachelor,
Honey, we can do better. Maybe some third-perspective can help you see how much of a train wreck you've become.

While you have already given up most of your dignity from agreeing to date the same man as 26 other women on national television, try to keep a shred of it by refraining from crying when you get voted out.

But surely the two group dates where we amassed a total of ten minutes of conversation alone has solidified my undying love for you.

No. No, you're not in love. So gather the few shreds of dignity you dropped and walk out with your head up and stop the waterworks. You're embarrassing women everywhere. Be strong and confident, and take a sigh of relief that you're no longer practicing polygamy.

Also, think of the probability when you go in there. The odds aren't fantastic that you'll win in the first place, so don't act like you couldn't have guessed this would happen. One in a twenty seven chance of winning isn't a bet most people would gamble on.

Please also refrain from muttering any semblance of, "I just hate sharing my boyfriend." Dude, you signed up for this. What exactly were you expecting when enrolled in the Bachelor? Also, does a group date or two really constitute him being your boyfriend?

And finally, please stop whining that he's kissing other chicks than you. Do you really want to be the sixth lady he's made out with on a group date? How special do you really think it'll be to him?

Well, on second thought, I take it all back. Keep being total hot messes. The show wouldn't be quite the same without you fretting over every single minute of your current existence.